


Curbside Pick-up

by Triscribe



Series: Avengers Nonsense Starring Spider-Man [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, I reject your reality and substitute my own, More characters to come, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, seriously it's gonna be the whole crew by the time I'm done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-27 22:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15034427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triscribe/pseuds/Triscribe
Summary: You have received 1 new messageMr. Stark: Heads up, had a change in transportation for this afternoon. He promised not to throw anything if you don’t go for his legs again---Five times that an Avenger or two gave Peter a ride after school, and one memorable occasion when they ALL showed up.(Edit: due to abundant support, this will now be a doubled fic - ten times an Avenger or two picked Peter up, and twice that the whole lot of them came to his school. Poor kid.)





	1. Stars and Stripes

**Author's Note:**

> I admit, despite how much I love Spider-man in general and the MCU rendition of him in particular, I still have not seen Homecoming. Blasphemy, I know. But, I do read fan fiction for it, and after seeing authors frequently send Happy and/or Tony to get Peter after school lets out, I had this idea...  
> Also, until such time as we get a Proper Resolution from Avengers 4, I plan to operate in a weird AU state where the events of Infinity War either didn’t happen or have already been resolved, your choice.  
> Hope you enjoy!

_You have received 1 new message_

_**Mr. Stark:** Heads up, had a change in transportation for this afternoon. He promised not to throw anything if you don’t go for his legs again_

Peter frowned at his cell phone, but only barely had time to text back a baffled _????_ before his teacher was turning back around at the front of the room. Quickly, he tucked the device back in his hoodie pocket and feigned interest in the political maneuvers behind King Henry the Eighth marrying his fourth wife, the German-born Anne of Cleves. He’d already watched a documentary the previous week with May that went into way more detail about the wives than his History Class, and so felt perfectly justified in sneaking his phone out.

At least, he did up until the well-worn nub of an eraser hit the side of his head. Peter’s spidey sense knew it was coming, but with so many eyes around he decided against attracting attention by ducking. After bending down to nab the offending object off the ground, the teen looked over at MJ, who stared back with her usual neutral expression and a single raised eyebrow. Sighing, Peter gently tossed the eraser back to her, then settled in to pay attention as their teacher’s lecture moved on to the fifth wife, Catherine Howard.   
Honestly, who thought it was a good idea to let an old man with three kids already marry a literal teenager?

Mr. Stark’s text message managed to completely slip his mind until school let out, when Peter and Ned were coming out the front doors and saw a crowd of students gathering near the parent pick-up area of the street.

“Crap,” Peter muttered. “That’s probably for me.”

Ned just gave him a _no duh_ look.

They started walking over, necks craning even as they tried to avoid knocking into anybody, until they stood at a spot where they could see an old-school motorcycle sitting at the curb, a tall, blonde, and _very_ familiar man leaning against it.

“No way,” Ned breathed, practically starting to quiver. “No way, no way _no freakin’ way.”_ Peter just stared.

Steve Rogers had yet to look up from the sketchbook he was drawing in, clearly aware of the high schoolers watching him but perfectly content to ignore them. No one seemed willing to do more than whisper and snap pictures, but Peter knew that wouldn’t last. And sure enough, as he stood there, someone broke the line and approached the literal living legend.

That someone being MJ.

She came to a stop directly in front of the super soldier, held up her own sketchpad and asked, “Realistic or cartoon?”

Rogers glanced up with a blink. Peter would say he looked startled. “Little of both. You?”

“Little of both,” MJ repeated. “I like to draw people in a crisis. Sometimes that means exaggeration to get the point across.” The captain blinked again, and then slowly started to grin.

“Are you the one who shows up to detention of her own volition?” At MJ’s nod, he smirked. “Peter’s talked about you.”

It was MJ’s turn to blink, though she followed it up with a glance in Peter and Ned’s direction. Rogers followed it, and spotted them.

“Hey kid,” he called, closing the book and tucking it away. “Hope you don’t mind the change in plans, Happy has the day off and Tony got dragged into a shareholders meeting.”

Steeling himself, Peter walked forward, Ned belatedly trailing after him. “No, don’t mind, it’s fine, just would have been nice to get a bit of warning, y’know?”

The captain frowned. “Didn’t Tony text you?”

Peter felt like slapping himself. “Oh. Yeah. He did, he just- nevermind. Can we get out of here? Please?”

“Climb on. Nice to meet you, Miss Jones. Ned,” he added, nodding at the still-stunned boy. Peter didn’t have time to offer anything more than a grimace to his friends before getting onto the captain’s motorcycle behind him. The engine roared to life, and then they were off.

Having never ridden one before, it took Peter a few minutes to get used to the open-air vehicle, leaning into the superhero in front of him and following his slight posture adjustments whenever they turned. He didn’t mind the rushing wind, which was pretty similar to the sensation of web-slinging, but his spidey sense kept going off when they got close to cars and especially trucks. _That_ took some adjusting. When he felt as comfortable as he was going to get, the boy addressed his unexpected driver. 

“Okay, we’ve only spoken three times ever, and I know for a _fact_ that I have never talked about MJ in front of you.” His words might have gotten snatched by the wind, but Peter knew the captain’s hearing was just as good as if not better than his own.

“But you talk about her to Tony,” the man replied. “And in case you didn’t know, kid, he’s a terrible gossip. Especially with Bruce, and even more especially with Clint, now that they’re speaking again. And when that man starts bragging about you to the rest of us, he doesn’t stop.”

“Uh.” Peter had no good response to that.

“Got your stuff or do we need to swing by home?”

“Uh, no, I’ve got my suit, I’m good.”

“Change of clothes? Toothbrush?”

“Already at the compound,” Peter answered on autopilot. “Mr. Stark got me a bunch of stuff to keep in my room there.”

“He does like to drop practical gifts onto people’s heads, doesn’t he?”

Peter thought of the double decker bed in his bedroom at home, and the state of the art laptop, and fully loaded work desk- “Yeah, I guess.”

“Did he really loan you a car for your driving test?”

The teen groaned and planted his head against the captain’s back. _“Yes._ And then he refused to take it back when I was done. By the time my aunt got involved, he’d already transferred the title to her name and sent over a check to take care of the jump in our insurance bill.” He felt more than heard the captain chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s Tony for you.”


	2. Killer Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hasn’t even been a full twelve hours yet, how the heck does this story already have nearly twenty bookmarks and over sixty kudos? Well, regardless, the obvious enthusiasm has been enough to push me into whipping this out for y’all. Enjoy!

The hype and attention generated by the _actual honest-truth Steve Rogers AKA Captain Freaking America_ picking him up from school did, eventually, die down, for which Peter was exceedingly grateful. He even managed to make it through the following few weeks with minimal incident - quiet patrols, short homework assignments, limited Avengers stuff. Tony came over for dinner a couple of times with him and May, and once took them out with Pepper to a nicer restaurant than what the Parkers could usually afford. He mentioned that a bunch of the team were out of the country on different tasks (visiting family, beating up Hydra remnants, etc, etc) but that they’d be trickling back to the Compound for the holidays. Apparently, both Hawkeye and Ant-Man would be bringing their respective families over for short trips, something previously unheard of.

Peter was explaining all this to Ned under his breath as they walked out of school Friday afternoon, when MJ materialized on his other side with a gleam her eye that set him on edge.

“Know who’s picking you up today yet, Parker?” She asked. He stared at her, nonplussed.

“How’d you-?”

“Every other Friday, you get a ride from Stark or Stark’s driver - or hundred year old super soldiers - and disappear all weekend on your, internship.” Her slight pause before the last word had both Peter and Ned wincing. They knew that MJ _probably_ knew about Spider-man, but until she outright said something, the two of them were keeping their mouths shut.

“No, I’m not sure who’s picking me up - Mr. Stark doesn’t text ahead, Happy only does sometimes, and the captain was only a one time thing.” Peter frowned. “I think.”

Ned sputtered, MJ smirked, and Peter didn’t have any time to protest those reactions before the sound of an approaching engine cut him off. A shiny, sleek sports car pulled up to the curb just ahead of them, the passenger side window rolling to reveal a smirking red-haired woman.

“Hey kids,” she called. “Any of you know where the science labs are? I’m here to pick up a baby genius.”

“Oh. My God.” Peter dropped his head into his hands. “That- no. Please no.”

“Would you rather I get out and yell for you to come on or we’ll be late for the Science Playdate?”

_“That is even worse.”_

“Then hurry up and get in the car, Parker.” He did so, blushing fiercely and trying to ignore the murmurs of the crowd behind him.

“The Stingray, you had to come in the _Corvette Stingray,_ I thought you of all people knew how to be _subtle-”_

“Only when I want to be.” Natasha nodded to both MJ and Ned, and pulled away as Peter locked his seatbelt into place. “Don’t think you’re special, I used to pick Steve up for missions the same way when we still worked for SHIELD.”

The kid shot her an incredulous look.

“Ask Sam if you don’t believe me. He’ll be the one to come get you next month.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “...what, are you guys all taking turns?”

“Pepper’s idea. She said we ought to get to know you outside of training, and this was the most practical idea anyone came up with.”

“Well that rules out Mr. Stark suggesting it, then.”

Natasha actually chuckled. “It does. He held out against it longer than anyone else - didn’t want to give up on driving you himself and getting to hear all the high school gossip firsthand.”

Peter narrowed his eyes, thinking that over. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“I’m always serious, Parker.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you usually hang out with Hawkeye, then? Because he wisecracks enough for the both of you?”

She smirked, but didn’t otherwise reply. “So, your school has a Winter Dance just before the semester break, right? Are you going to ask Jones or wait for her to ask you?”

Peter’s face, only just back to its proper color, turned bright red again, and he sunk down into the seat with a muffled whine.

“I’ll ask her for you, if you’d like.”

_“Don’t you dare.”_


	3. Bickering Brothers

Knowing ahead of the fact gave Peter time to mentally prepare for getting a ride from Falcon - which basically translated to readying himself to flee his final class as soon as the bell rang and race out ahead of the crowd. Hopefully, he could keep the embarrassment and consecutive hype to a bare minimum. Ned didn’t mind being ditched- well, he did, but Peter’s promise to get him a visit to the Compound over Winter Break put the other boy at ease. MJ thought he was being stupid when she heard of the plan, yet somehow managed to beat Peter outside on the day in question.

He didn’t like the way she was grinning.

“You’re not gonna be getting out of here so quick after all, nerd,” the girl informed him as he ran past. Peter frowned, but didn’t bother backtracking to ask why.

A minute later, he wished he had.

“Unbelievable, you’re supposed to be the big name Air Force Colonel-”

“Hand me that jack-”

“-and yet you managed to not only miss the fact your front tire’s got a slow leak-”

“-I need the handle too-”

“-but _also_ the fact your _air compressor_ ain’t working worth shi-”

“-the _handle,_ Sam, come on man-”

Sam Wilson and James Rhodes were both at the curb in front of Midtown High, changing a tire on the latter’s four door Ford pick-up. Well, the colonel was changing it, anyway - Falcon mostly seemed to be standing next to him complaining at full speed.

Peter clapped a hand across his eyes. “Why me?” The groan was just loud enough for the two of them to notice his arrival.

“Oh hey kid.”

“Hey, Peter. C’mon over here and give me a hand with this thing, would ya?”

With the inevitable crowd starting to gather as students piled out of the school behind him, the teen shuffled forward, shoulders slumped. “What exactly do you need me to do?”

Colonel Rhodes gestured to the two-piece jack he’d set up underneath the truck’s frame, getting to his feet as he did so. “Turn that, if you don’t mind. Give my old knees a break from all this crouching.”

Falcon scowled at him. “I _said_ I would do it, but you jumped out first and _insisted-”_

“Yeah, I know, but that was then and this is now. Kid needs to know how to change a tire.”

“I _have_ done this before, thank you,” Peter grumbled, setting his backpack aside as he crouched. Thankfully, the mechanism only need a bare minimum of pressure to turn, or else he would’ve had to put on a bigger show in order to still be seen as a wimpy nerd. Getting rides from know superheroes was bad enough - the last thing in the world he needed was his classmates musing over whether or not Peter might be more than a tech intern.

“Then consider this to be good practice,” the colonel said, not even bothering to look down at him. “And for your information, Sam, I _did_ notice the leak last night, but the compressor worked just fine then to fill it up, and I planned to get a new tire today. But then you called, said your trash car had broken down _again-”_

“It is not-!”

“-and that you wanted to borrow mine to come get the kid - I _tried_ to tell you about the leak, but _no,_ you just couldn’t listen-”

“Other people are listening now!” They both ignored Peter’s protest. He huffed, tugging the flat tire off of the truck’s rim before rolling the spare over to line up with it.

“I was in a hurry! It’s _your_ best friend who’ll pitch a fit if we don’t get his precious pupil to work on time-”

“Then explain how _your_ closest friend was able to pick him up just fine last month with no problems?” The colonel looked smug as Falcon scowled.

“You know full well I can do anything just the same as Steve-”

“-but slower!” After a moment of glaring at each other, both men burst out laughing. Below them, Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing the lugnuts lying on the pavement and the tire iron leaning against the curb.

Falcon got his breath back first. “Alright, alright, so I should’ve slowed down a little more and listened-”

“-and then we might not be in this mess?”

“Oh we’d still be in it, just somewhere else on the road, ‘cause I was not gonna let you off the hook after that solid I did you at Thanksgiving.”

“Well, I guess I should be grateful we were at least able to get here before class let out!”

“Damn straight you should be!”

“HEY!” The two superheroes blinked when Peter hopped to his feet in between them. “Tire’s changed, can we _please go now?”_

Falcon glanced at the colonel and shrugged. “What do you think, we embarrassed him enough yet?”

“Nah, I say we keep it up for at least a few more minutes-”

Peter grabbed his backpack off the ground and clambered into the truck’s back seat to hide.


	4. Life Flashing By

The next pick-up for a weekend at Avengers Compound was, thankfully, handled by nondescript Happy Hogan, for which Peter was _exceedingly_ grateful. A few days later, though, Tony texted to say his help was needed for something, and that Peter should expect a ride waiting for him after school. Oh so cautiously that afternoon, he slunk out the doors, down the steps, and towards the street.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Ned asked, grinning even as he kept to Peter’s slow-footed snail’s pace. “The Winter Soldier? Doctor Banner? Ant-Man? Ooh, if it’s Ant-Man, do you think the Wasp is with him? I saw some footage on Youtube last night of her beating up a bunch of security guards, and even with all the times she shrinks down, it’s awesome, she’s got these cool stinger weapons-”

“Ned.”

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It turned out to be worse than any of Ned’s ideas. Because not only were there two Avengers waiting with a Honda Civic, the one sitting behind the wheel wasn’t, to put it lightly...

“She needs the practice,” Clint grinned, clapping a hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

...the most experienced of drivers.

“I’m gonna die,” Peter announced, before reluctantly sliding into the backseat.

“Can I have your Lego collection after the funeral?” Ned asked.

“The fact that you’d be nice enough to wait until after makes me inclined to say sure.”

“Sweet!” Ned waved, completely unrepentant, as Wanda started the engine and put the car in drive. Peter continued to glare up until she stomped on the gas and they tore away from the curb - after that, he became a little more preoccupied with gripping his seatbelt and calling out warnings of red lights. Clint was little to no help, actively encouraging Wanda to be rude and assertive.

“Why, exactly, do you need my help?” Peter asked at a relatively peaceful moment. “Motorcycle!”

“I see her,” Wanda said, letting the bike over before scooting into the space she’d been occupying, nearly cutting off another car as she did so. “You are the only one who still lives full-time in the city, so Tony suggested getting you to be our, ah-”

“Tour guide,” Clint supplied. The driver behind them blasted on their horn, and he stretched a hand out the window in order to flip them the bird. “We need to knock out the last few hours of practice before Wanda can get her license tomorrow, and I figured she needed some more experience on city streets rather than the empty lanes around my farm.”

“... _hours?”_

“Mm-hm. So, what route would you suggest, kid?”

Sighing, Peter wondered at the insanity his life had become. Then he told Wanda to hang a right at the next intersection, before bracing his feet against the floorboards when she took the turn too fast. It was a good thing he didn’t have much homework to do that night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, we’re at a bit of a quandary here. Next up is supposed to be the last of the “five” chapters before our bonus, but I can see by the comments that you all want more Avengers than I can feasibly include. So! Do I keep to my original plan and do the pair I want, OR, do I break the 5+1 format to include an extra couple chapters to fit several more characters? Vote below, final decision will be announced with tomorrow’s chapter. Thanks!  
> -Tri


	5. Welcome Respite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tri wakes up, grabs her phone to check for ff and ao3 email notifications* Okay, let’s see what people have said about Curbside- *Veritable FLOOD of reviews completely swamp her inbox* Okay, okay! Message received loud and clear! So, since y’all’s opinions CLEARLY swing in favor of breaking the 5+1 format, I’m gonna go ahead and double things - 10 times an Avenger or two picked Peter up from school, and twice that they all show up. >xD  
> You guys are wonderful, truly. Let’s hope the future chapters meet your expectations.  
> -Tri

_You have received 1 new message_

Grimacing, Peter swiped his screen and hesitantly opened up the text.

_**Dr. B:** Hey kid, I’ll be in the grey Toyota down the block. Let me know if there’s anything you want to eat after school, I’ll pick it up on my way._

Peter nearly burst out laughing, he was so relieved. Quickly, before the tardy bell signalled the start of class, he sent back a flood of thumbs up emojis along with a hamburger and question mark.

Doctor Banner’s reply came about ten minutes later in the form of an old school parentheses-and-colon smiley face. When Peter showed it to Ned between classes, the other boy clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.

“See? There is _one_ Avenger who knows how to act like a normal person.”

MJ’s response was a tad more cynical. “I wouldn’t be so sure the others haven’t put him up to bringing out the Hulk while he waits for you.”

“Oh no,” Peter said, good humor vanishing. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. “They probably have. Crap.”

He spent the rest of the day in a numb state, with brief bouts of existential dread. When the dismissal bell finally rang, he couldn’t make up his mind whether to race out of the building or drag his feet. Splitting the difference, he wound up walking at a normal pace, fearfully scanning the line of cars at the curb as he approached.

One dark grey vehicle off to the right caught his eye, and the wave of a thankfully _not_ big green hand had him stepping up the pace.

Peter jumped into the front passenger’s seat and immediately thanked the man sitting behind the wheel.

Doctor Banner smiled. “You’re welcome, Peter, it’s no trouble. I like doing something domestically normal for a change-”

“Not just for coming to get me, I mean for not, y’know, coming as the Big Guy.”

The man’s smile immediately shifted to something a little cheekier. “You thought that was liable to happen, huh?”

“I didn’t until MJ pointed it out, but yeah. Figured you might, since you two have been working together a lot more lately.”

Banner laughed. “Well, Clint and Sam _did_ suggest it, but I decided I didn’t really want to send half the school into a panic just for the sake of embarrassing you.”

“And I’ll say it again: _thank you.”_

“Sure thing. Food’s in the back, by the way. You wanna grab it before we go?” Peter quickly stretched behind him to grab the paper bag that smelled delicious, then buckled up with one hand while stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth with the other. Doctor Banner just shook his head, still grinning, before putting on his turn signal and pulling out into the lane.


	6. Playing Chicken

Peter should have known.

He should have realized, should’ve put two and two together, should have _known_ that the evening spent guiding Wanda through the insane streets of NYC would have led to _this._

“Do either of you even _have_ drivers licenses?” He demanded.

Barnes looked at Vision. Vision looked at Barnes. Then they both looked at Peter, and said in puzzled unison, “No.”

Peter _really_ wished he had a pillow to scream into right about then.

But, as there was a crowd of awed high school students at his back, he got a grip on himself. “Okay, in, we gotta go and I will yell at Mr. Stark for this later.”

Barnes smirked as he got into the front passenger’s seat, Vision walking around to the driver’s side, (thankfully wearing his human-hologram-disguise-thing). “Is that even possible for you, brat?”

“We’ll find out,” Peter grumbled, throwing first his backpack and then himself into the backseat. “Okay, put the gear selector in drive-”

“Seatbelts first,” Vision interrupted.

“Yes, right, seatbelts first, _then_ put-”

“And I have downloaded all pertinent information concerning vehicle operation, Peter. I understand the basic mechanics, but am lacking practical experience to accompany that knowledge.”

“Then will you just _get us out of here.”_

Barnes grinned over his shoulder. “Sam was right, this is fun.” Peter didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Vision, take the next left.”

“How soon is it appropriate to change to the turn lane?”

“Uh, well, they usually leave a gap in the marker paint, but it’s okay if you shift a little before that, especially if there are other people ahead of you filling the lane up.”

“Noted.”

A sudden thought occurred to Peter as they were turning. “How’d you guys get here, if neither of you have licenses?”

“Just because I don’t have a modern day piece of plastic saying I’m allowed to drive doesn’t mean I _can’t,_ brat,” Barnes said idly.

“Then _what do you need me for?”_

“Same as Wanda. Tour guide. Vision hasn’t been around much, and I haven’t been around at all since the forties.”

Peter tried to feel bad for Barnes, he really did, but the fact that the man was actively participating in the attempts to give him heart attacks every other Friday made it _extremely_ difficult.

“...Not this intersection, it’s one way, but the next one, hang a right.”

Vision put on his turn signal in order to change lanes, and waited. And waited. And waited.

“Dude, just go.”

“I need to wait for a suitably sized gap in the traffic to open, either by chance or via a fellow driver waiting for me.”

Peter stared at the back of his head. “Dude. This is _New York_ traffic - it doesn’t get more cutthroat than around here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“No one is going to just let you in, you just gotta be forceful and jump for it. Helps if you’ve got an older car you don’t mind dinging occasionally, ‘cause the taxicabs are _brutal_ when it comes to playing Chicken.”

He met the android’s puzzled eyes in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure? The traffic laws-”

“Count for very little in New York, trust me,” Peter assured him, before sighing. “Where’s Clint when you need him?”

“Helping Cooper’s Boy Scout troop learn archery,” Barnes supplied.

“Of course he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True fact, I used to live on Long Island, and my mom’s favorite summertime activity was to load up a car full of elementary schoolers to drive into NYC to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Natural History Museum. She’d always amuse the hell out of us, strong-arming her way through traffic and claiming parking spaces at the last second, but her secret to success was having an old, beat-up station wagon to drive, as opposed to something shiny and new she’d be afraid of damaging. xD


	7. The Weird Cousins

Of all the vehicles he’d envisioned picking him up the next Friday, an honest to goodness minivan was not one of them.

“Uh... Maybe all Mister Stark’s cars exploded and they had to borrow from somebody’s soccer parent?” Ned hazarded, staring down at the text on Peter’s phone.

Peter could only shrug, more baffled by the text from Colonel Rhodes than he’d been by the one from Mister Stark ‘warning’ him about the captain.

_**Mister Colonel Sir:** Look for a blue minivan this afternoon - we’re all kinda busy, and they were coming up to NY anyway_

“Maybe it’s some of the Reser’vengers?”

“Heck if I know, Ned. Heck if I know.”

That afternoon, though, they kept their eyes peeled, MJ standing nearby pretending not to be paying attention. Or maybe she was genuinely ignoring them. Peter never could tell.

Though there were a few determined students left watching to see who’d be there to grab Peter Parker that day, a big portion of the usual crowd had drained away by the time the forewarned minivan appeared. Two adults sat in the front seats, one of whom Peter only knew by reputation, the other he was very familiar with.

“Oh geez,” he mumbled. “It’s Scott and Ma’am Van Dyne.”

“Ant-Man and Wasp!” Ned squeaked, his face lighting up. Movement in the back caught Peter’s attention, and as he walked closer, a head of brown hair with a princess tiara became visible through the window.

Bracing himself, he slid open the side door - and was promptly tackled by a small child.

“HI PETER!”

“Hiya munchkin,” he laughed, pinwheeling his arms to stay upright. “Have you gotten bigger?”

Cassandra Lang beamed up at him. “Yep! Mommy measured me before we left, and I’m a whole inch taller than last time!”

“She’s shooting up like a weed!” Scott called from the front seat. “Now c’mon, you two, I don’t want Leggy getting out.

“Right, right, we’re coming. Oh, by the way, these are my friends Ned and MJ.” Cassie promptly released him in order to stick her hand out for Ned to shake, Scott waving and Van Dyne nodding from the driver’s seat.

“I like your boots!” Cassie told MJ, shaking her hand next, in the exaggerated manner universal to exuberant eight year olds.

“Thanks, I do too,” the older girl replied. Peter grinned to himself; the boots in question came up to mid calf, were bright red, and had the same spiderweb design as his suit drawn on them in black marker from top to bottom. He stashed his backpack in the third row, taking a second to give a pat to the dog-sized ant taking a nap amidst the small pile of shrunken luggage.

“All set?” Van Dyne asked, as soon as Peter and Cassie were both seated inside.

“Yep, we’re good,” the boy told her, waving to his friends as he closed the door again. “I didn’t realize you guys would be driving in.”

“Ehh, Leggy didn’t exactly appreciate flying,” Scott said sheepishly as his partner joined the flow of traffic. “By the time he sabotaged our first two aircraft, Hope decided we’d really be better off renting a vehicle and finishing the rest of the trip by highway.”

“I like waving at people,” Cassie informed Peter, leaning over to stage whisper at him. “Sometimes they wave back, and sometimes they get really pale when Leggy crawls up next to me.”

Peter couldn’t say he was surprised. “Good for you, munchkin. Just, try not to let him eat anything important at the Avengers Compound, okay?”

“Okay!”

After they’d gotten a few streets away from the school, Scott practically turned around in his seat in order to grin at Peter. “So, a big old birdbrain told me you got a bit huffy at Stark the other day.”

The teen immediately glowered at him.

“C’mon, kid, you can share with us! Did you really sulk on the ceiling?”

“I was not not sulking!”

“Natasha told me he refused to come down until Stark promised to stop sending learner-drivers to the school,” Van Dyne mentioned off-hand. Peter groaned.

Cassie leaned over from her seat to pat at his arm. “It’s okay, sometimes I get mad at my parents too.”

There was no good response for that, so Peter just sighed and slouched as low as the seatbelt would let him.


	8. Foreign Extraction

“What do you mean, people are making _bets?!”_

MJ just handed over her phone, and Peter stared in horror at the screen. He scrolled down, seeing dozens of comments as people debated who would next be showing up at Midtown High, along with what time, what vehicle, and so on, some including prizes for whoever wound up being most right.

Ned peered over his shoulder, and whistled. “Wow. Has anyone linked you to this yet?”

“No. Mister Stark wrote a program to overwrite my name if it shows up in media posts along with the team.”

Taking her phone back, MJ arched an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me that actually works.”

Peter shrugged. “Has so far. At least, no one outside the school seems to realize I’m the one getting picked up yet.” He blew out a slow breath, resettling his backpack. “I just hope things die down before winter break ends...”

“Well, that’s kinda up to the Avengers, isn’t it?”

“Don’t remind me.”

They only had two weeks of regular classes left, then four days of final exams before the Winter Dance followed by half a month of sweet freedom. Teachers were starting to make the switch from regular assignments to end of the semester projects and study guides, and students could head home with light backpacks at the end of the day. Which was good, because they were instead weighed down by multiple layers to fight off the winter chill.

“So who is it going to be, today?” Ned asked as they walked down the school’s front steps, balance steady despite the slick ice.

“No texts yet, so either Mister Stark, Sergeant Barnes, or someone new.” Peter had, thankfully, gotten the other Avengers to promise to Let Him Know if they would be coming to get him. Barnes was the only holdout, claiming that he had a hard time figuring out the different messaging systems on his phone, but Peter knew it was just because he wanted to be difficult. Privately, he hoped it would be Mister Stark, because the teen did miss getting to hang out one on one with his mentor. The labs always had someone else around in recent days, and the rest of the Compound wasn’t any better.

But of course, as per his usual luck, the universe decided to throw him a new curveball.

The usual crowd hung further back from the curb than was normal, and as he got closer Peter could hear two people arguing in a language other than English. Finally stepping into view, he froze.

King T’Challa stood on the sidewalk.

Black Panther, the _literal king_ of an _actual nation,_ stood on the sidewalk in front of a crowd of high schoolers, paying them no mind as he verbally sparred with General Okoye, the terrifying head of his all-women bodyguards. Peter’s brain short-circuited. Ned didn’t look like he was doing any better. MJ, on the other hand, appeared delighted.

“Peter,” she said, grabbing his arm. “I demand that you get me an interview with that man.”

“I can’t do that!” He hissed back automatically.

“You _can_ and you _will_ \- do you realize the kind of extra credit I could get on my History project if I include quotes from the current ruler of the only African nation that never had to regain their freedom from colonial rule? Interview. _Now.”_

“Alright, al _right.”_ Peter awkwardly tried to get her to let go, but gave in and wound up just towing MJ along as he carefully stepped up to the arguing Wakandans.

“Uh, hi, Mister King Panther, Sir,” he said, instantly gaining both T’Challa and General Okoye’s attentions. “I am so sorry for taking up your time like this, and yours too, General Ma’am.”

The King smiled at him. “It is no trouble, Peter. I desired an excuse to drive into the city, and Stark was kind enough to offer me the opportunity through you.”

“Okay, but I still feel the need to apologize. Also, this is my friend MJ, and she’d really like a chance to talk to you-”

“Interview,” MJ cut in smoothly. “I realize this isn’t the best of times or locations, your Majesty, but my final project for History is an analysis on the modern day effects in Africa left by European colonialism, and it would be _incredible_ to include your point of view as the protector of Wakanda.”

King T’Challa glanced at General Okoye, who raised a single eyebrow in return.

“...You may sit with me, Miss...?”

“Jones. Michelle Jones. Thank you, your Majesty.”

“Please - any close friend of Peter’s is allowed to address me by my given name,” the King said, opening the rear door of his car and gesturing for her to slide inside.

The girl nodded. “Then you’re allowed to call me MJ.” The two of them got inside, already talking, to Peter’s astonishment. It took a none too subtle cough from General Okoye to jumpstart his brain.

After shooting the dumbstruck Ned a quick wave, Peter got into the front passenger’s seat, more than a little wary of trying to strike up a conversation with the General as she started the engine. She, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have any such inhibition.

“I suppose I must thank you, young Spider.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” He hazarded. “What did I do?”

“T’Challa and I were not agreeing on which of us would drive back to Avengers Compound - introducing your friend to us was the perfect way to get that idiot to finally back down.”

Peter blinked, and then started to grin. A peek at General Okoye from the corner of his eye revealed that she was smirking too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, folks, real life managed to sink its claws into me for a while there. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! Only two more Avengers pick-ups to go, and then it's Hydra's turn. >:)  
> See y'all in a couple days!  
> -Tri


	9. Exchange Student

Peter couldn’t bring himself to step forward.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting this,” the girl on the motorcycle grinned.

“Honestly? No.”

“Well, do you want to stay here and keep getting stared at, white boy, or are we going to go?” Peter glared long and hard at Princess Shuri, and the only reason he didn’t immediately fold was thanks to the fact she was the same age as him.

“Did you _have_ to bring the sidecar?”

Shuri’s grin grew wider. 

“I approve,” MJ said from behind him. Peter didn’t even have to look to know she was smirking.

“I’m going to look ridiculous. This is undignified.”

“It’s not like you’ve got much dignity left at this point,” Ned spoke up.

Peter sighed. And got into the sidecar.

Beaming, Shuri fired up the engine. “Here we go!”

“Wait, doesn’t this thing have a seatbe- WHOA!” Later, Peter would furiously protest MJ laughing about his ‘terrified screech’, claiming it was more of a startled yelp when the Wakandan teenager rocketed them out into the line of traffic. At the time, however, he was more focused on clutching his backpack with one hand and the rim of the sidecar seat with the other, because Shuri drove like a _madwoman._

“If we get pulled over by a cop, I am so not vouching for you!” He yelled at one point. The princess’s response was to throw her head back and laugh. “Seriously, where did you learn to drive?!”

“At home! And don’t worry, I’m certified in six different countries!”

“How many of them are places that drive on the right side of the road?!”

Shuri didn’t deign to answer that.

By the time they cleared the city limits, Peter was grateful to still be alive. Running red lights, taking corners at high speeds, practically ignoring the rules of right-of-way and nearly getting them plowed into on multiple occasions - it was a miracle they only had a couple scratches as evidence of the high speed adventure.

“I thought New York City was supposed to be exciting to traverse,” Shuri said. “That was almost boring.”

Peter shot her an incredulous look. “What, exactly, do you consider ‘exciting’?!”

The Wakandan girl shrugged. “High speed chases, outrunning storms, racing against Nakia, that sort of thing.”

“...You’re crazy.”

“Crazy like a fox! Eh? Eh?” Shuri grinned, teasingly, and despite still coming down from the terror-induced adrenaline rush, Peter couldn’t help but laugh.


	10. Beats the Subway

“So is anyone gonna pick you up next week?” Ned asked as he and Peter headed for their lockers.

“Mister Stark and Ms. Potts were planning to, but something came up in their schedule for the wedding, so I think it’s just going to be Happy giving me a ride home.”

“Oh.”

“But, they both promised to come drive me to and from the dance, since May’s got a shift.” Peter grimaced, still talking as he emptied out the last bits and bobs from his locker. “Honestly, though, I think that’s less getting a jumpstart on stuff at the Compound and more an excuse to see me dressed up.” After zipping his backpack closed, the boy turned around to see Ned grinning at him. “What?”

“Dude, they have _so_ adopted you.”

He laughed as Peter sputtered. MJ arrived then, and only had to listen to Peter’s protests for a moment before she sided with Ned. “C’mon, Parker, at this point _all_ of the Avengers have pretty much claimed you as their kid - why else would they each find excuses to come pick you up from this dump?”

“They enjoy giving me heart attacks.”

“Yeah, which is something all older family members get a kick out of doing. Trust me on this.” As the three of them started walking towards the front entrance, MJ gave Peter a side-eyed glance. “So, you gonna dance with me next Friday?”

Superpowers notwithstanding, the kid tripped over air and nearly fell flat on his face. “Uh, w-what?”

“Nevermind,” MJ muttered, increasing her speed. Stunned, it took a nudge from Ned to get Peter to hurry after her.

“Hold up, yes, I will definitely- I mean, I want to, but not if, y’know, it would make you u-uncomfortable,” Peter stammered. His friend suddenly halted mid-step, and Peter just barely came to a stop before slamming into her. “Uh, MJ?”

“Young Peter!” Flinching at the unexpected yell, Peter leaned over to look past MJ, and gaped when he saw a pair of figures waiting for him at the base of the stairs. “We have come to fetch you from the Halls of Learning!”

“Oh boy.”

Thor looked delighted, big and boisterous and clearly-not-of-Earth despite the casual clothes he wore. Standing just out of accidental smacking range was a much more finely dressed figure, one whom Peter had only met a couple of times.

“Hey, Thor,” he called, jogging down the steps. “Hi, Doctor Strange.”

“Mister Parker,” the wizard greeted him. “Are you ready to depart?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m- wait, no, I gotta finish talking to MJ-”

“You can talk to your girlfriend later,” Strange interrupted. “I have important matters scheduled for this afternoon, and the only reason I’m here at all was to prevent the certain disasters that would come of _him_ operating a human vehicle.” He jerked his head towards Thor, who just grinned wider.

The words _she’s not my girlfriend yet_ died on Peter’s lips. “Wait, so, _you’re_ gonna drive us?”

“Who said anything about driving?” Strange swiped his hands through the air, and a swirling vortex of orange light spun into existence, like a window into the living room at Avengers Compound. “Come.”

“I’m glad that our paths have aligned for this weekend, Young Peter,” Thor boomed, clapping a hand around the kid’s shoulders and practically dragging him through the portal after Strange. “My good friend Valkyrie is visiting as well, and I wish to gain your assistance in setting up a Midgardian ‘date’ between her and Lady Sif-”

Half-listening to the god, Peter twisted as much as he was able to send MJ a quick wave just before the portal closed.

“Right,” he murmured. “Date.”


	11. Holiday Heralds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, guys, this is the penultimate post! I had such a huge grin on my face while I wrote this monster, so I hope you all enjoy! *Cue the maniacal laughter*

“Sweet freedom!” Ned exclaimed, opening his arms to greet the weak winter sunlight. Behind him, Peter chuckled and MJ smirked as they walked out the school doors, holding hands.

Final exams had been brutal, but with the last one over and done with, Winter Break stretched out in front of them like an oasis in the desert.

Before that, though, they had the Midtown High Holiday Dance to get ready for.

“Video games tonight, Dance tomorrow, and then I'll _finally_ get to visit Avengers Compound, right?”

“Yes, Ned,” Peter assured him. “And then the team can focus on embarrassing you instead of me for a change.”

“Are you kidding?” MJ snickered. “They'll probably go out if their way to treat him normally, just to get under _your_ skin.”

Peter frowned. “What is it with you and raining on my parade?”

“Habit, at this point.”

They continued to playfully bicker all the way to the street, where Peter’s spidey sense began to prickle. He halted mid-step.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Something... something isn't-” Happy’s car pulled up in front of them before he could say more. Except, it _couldn't_ be Happy’s car, because Happy wasn't the person who got out of it.

A tall woman with light brown hair and freckles stepped out and moved towards them. “Hi, Peter! Are you ready to go?”

“Uh, who are you?”

“Oh, sorry, I'm Maria Hill,” she replied, holding out a hand to shake. “Didn't Tony text you? Happy was in a car accident a couple hours ago. He's fine,” she hastened to add, “But the boss didn't really want him driving again so soon afterward, so they sent me.”

Peter frowned. He glanced down at the hand she was still holding out, and his spidey sense rocketed up into the danger zone. “Um, do you mind if I call Mister Stark...?”

“Not at all, but I don't think you'll reach him - the Avengers had an emergency come up, they're all in Canada right now.” Peter’s hand froze, mere inches from his pocket. Mind scrambling, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Phone!”

“Pardon?”

“My phone - I think I left it in my locker. Uh, can you wait here just a minute?”

The woman nodded, though something about her smile became a bit stiffer. “Sure thing, Peter.”

“Thanks, I promise I'll be quick-”

“And we'll make sure of it,” MJ cut in. “C’mon, nerds.” She led the way back towards the school, all three of them pushing against the crowd.

The woman continued to watch them, left hand coming up to tap at her earpiece - her right hand, wearing a ring with built-in sedative dart, went back into its pocket. “Pick-up to Command, I think he’s made me. Prepare Strike Teams One and Two for mobilization.”

“Okay, guys, _what_ the heck was that?” Ned demanded as soon as they were back inside. “Peter, I _know_ you didn't forget your phone-”

“And _I_ know the team isn't on some emergency mission in Canada,” he interrupted. “I need to call Mister Stark.”

He pulled his cell out, opened up the screen- and froze when a cascade of goosebumps travelled up his spine, only seconds before both the lights above and his phone screen went dark. Ned yelped, MJ sucked in a startled gasp, and Peter tried to tamp down on his rising panic.

“Please tell me that was just a suspiciously timed power outage,” Ned whispered in the dimness. They could still see, somewhat, thanks to the windows at their backs, but the sun would be setting soon and Peter didn't want to think about what they could walk into when even the Emergency Exit lights were out.

“Probably an EMP blast, or something like that,” he muttered, tapping at his phone to no effect. “Whoever that woman is, she's not alone. We need to move.”

“And go where?!” The rising panic in Ned’s voice caused Peter to make a split-second decision.

“I have to stay put,” he said. “The bad guys need to be contained so they don’t hurt anyone, and the school’s pretty much empty already. Besides, once they realize something’s up, this is the first place the Avengers will come.”

MJ frowned sharply. “You better not be making a bid for us to leave you behind to save ourselves.”

Peter winced. “It’s not safe-”

“Bull. Next to you is safer than by ourselves - cool Stark tech aside, I know you’ve got actual powers to go along with the Spider stuff.” Both boys stared at her, wide-eyed, causing MJ to huff. “Do we really need to do this right now? I know you two suspected I knew, so let’s move on to _what needs to happen right now.”_

A door opened.

All three teenagers flinched, spinning around to face the threat, only to deflate when they realized it was Mister Lee, the school’s ancient janitor. Humming along to whatever music was playing through his headphones and wearing reflective aviator sunglasses, he ignored them - then again, it was entirely possible the man just didn’t see them as he locked the supply closet door. He then turned and shuffled off, clearly ready to leave the school for the day.

“Ned,” Peter said. “Go with him.”

“What?”

“Follow him, make sure he gets out of the school, then get out of this dead zone to call Mister Stark.”

“But-”

“Just do it!” Clearly unhappy, Ned reluctantly followed his friend’s order, hurrying after the balding old man. When he glanced over at her, Peter was unsurprised to see MJ glaring at him.

“Try to send me away, and I swear I’ll punch you.”

“Noted.” New footsteps replaced those of Ned and Mister Lee’s, prompting Peter to pull MJ into the nearby bathroom. Once out of sight of the hallway, he gestured for the girl to put her arms around him. Eyebrow arched, MJ nonetheless did so. Her eyes widened when Peter placed his palms flat against the wall at his back and slowly started pushing the both of them up off the floor.

“Wow,” she breathed, hanging on as they got higher and higher. Peter stopped when his head touched the ceiling. Just in time, he and MJ pulled their feet up, as a man dressed in black and armed with a submachine gun entered the bathroom.

He glanced around, checked the stalls, and then left again, calling “Clear!” to someone else in the hallway. Both Peter and MJ held their breath until the sound of several footsteps had passed and all was quiet again.

“...we can’t just stay here, can we,” MJ whispered. Peter grimaced.

“We could, but they’ll search the whole school and then come back. I don’t think they know about the Spidey stuff, which means I can’t tip them off by getting caught sticking to walls.”

“Okay. Let’s go back down.” Just as cautiously as before, Peter inched down to the floor, letting MJ let go and step back before unsticking himself.

“Should we follow one step behind them, or something?”

“Maybe two steps, just to be careful.” Peter grinned as MJ gave him an unimpressed stare. “I want to see what kind of search pattern they’re using, find a hole in it to slip through.”

“Alright, but if this blows up in our faces, I’m gonna-” They stepped out of the bathroom, at the same moment another armed man rounded the corner of the hallway to their right. “Crap.”

“Run!” Peter grabbed her hand and took off down the left, even as they heard the guy behind them calling for reinforcements. The teens skidded their way through empty and rapidly darkening halls, soon reaching the main staircase to the second floor. They just barely threw themselves up it in time, before a spray of bullets filled the hall behind them.

“That was a warning shot, brats!” Someone yelled. “Come back here before you get hurt!”

“Don’t listen to anything they say,” Peter warned, climbing with MJ right beside him.

“Kinda figured that out for myself, thanks! New plan?”

“New plan! Overlook!”

Once on the second floor, they veered right, towards the Science department, which had picture windows looking out onto the snow-covered roof of the gymnasium. Skidding to a stop beside them, Peter yanked off his backpack and hurled it at the glass.

Normally, a fabric bag containing assorted papers and a couple textbooks wouldn’t have near enough weight to actually do anything - but with radioactive spider-strength behind it, Peter’s pack smashed through. MJ helped him hit at the broken glass, busting open a big enough hole for them to climb out onto the ledge.

“You first!”

“But-”

 _“Michelle!”_ Growling, MJ went out, balancing on the narrow strip of stone with her back braced against the concrete wall. Just as he was following her, Peter’s Spidey Sense screamed a warning, but there wasn’t much he could do to dodge. Sure enough, something impacted his thigh right when he was shimmying out. Peter’s hand automatically snapped to the spot, and his stomach dropped his fingers found a metal dart rather than a bullet hole.

“Come on!” MJ grabbed his hand, tugging him along as they shuffled away from the hole and the people running towards it. “What's next?”

“Roof!” They continued on, out of sight of the windows, to a spot where a recess in the wall gave them enough room for Peter to turn and MJ to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Then he climbed, quickly, trying to ignore his growing dizziness.

Soon the two of them tumbled over the raised edge, limbs tangling as they rolled. Peter tried to get to his feet, to hurry towards the only interior staircase access door, but found his vision blurring too much to be able to tell where it was. MJ moved quicker, anyway, jumping up and hurrying out of his line of sight. “What the hell’s the matter with you?!” She demanded.

“Got hit,” he called in reply, pressing a palm to his forehead. “Some kind of dart- drugged, I think- I’m having a hard time shaking it off.” His senses started going haywire, Peter having a hard time distinguishing any of the sounds that bombarded his ears: voices speaking, yelling, cars honking, engines roaring. There was no mistaking the touch of MJ’s hands to his cheeks, though, lifting his face so that Peter could squint at her.

“Is it something meant to take down Peter Parker, or Spider-man?” She asked.

“I can’t- I can’t tell-” He heard voices coming from the building below them, orders being shouted. “Door, we’ve got to block the door-”

“There’s nothing to block it with, it locks from the inside!”

“Lead me.” MJ helped Peter to his feet and over to the rooftop access. He gripped the edge of the doorframe, and _squeezed._ Even with everything else going fuzzy, he very clearly felt the metal crunch. Fumbling for the hinges on the other side, Peter did it again. “There- that oughta slow ‘em down.”

“Now what?”

Peter tried to reply, only for a new wave of goosebumps to sweep over his skin. He shuddered, falling backwards, barely hearing MJ’s shout of alarm. 

_Crap, this is bad very bad gotta stay awake Parker don’t you dare leave her alone with your mess come ON wake UP dammit Peter gotta hold on too loud too much we need to hurry up scanners rooftop just hold on Spidey-_

When he next opened his eyes, however, it was to see things coming back into focus, including the panicked expression of the girl leaning over him.

“Please don’t do that again,” she said.

“I’ll try not to,” he promised. They both jumped when something hit the other side of the door. Dizziness receding but not gone, Peter let MJ drag him to a corner of the roof, out of sight of the doorway.

“Are you gonna be alright?” She asked after a moment, when it was clear their pursuers weren’t going to be making an immediate appearance.

“...I think so,” Peter replied, tentatively poking at the spot the dart had hit him. As quickly as they’d overloaded, his hearing and other senses started to dial back down to normal. “I think that dart had to be a regular sedative, ‘cause I’m already getting over it.”

“Good, because if it had made you throw up on my boots, we’d be having words, Parker.” MJ’s smirk, though, lacked it’s usual confidence, and Peter reached to grab her hand.

“Hey, we’ll make it out of this alive. I promise. Okay?”

The girl took a deep breath, squeezing his fingers when they heard another bang from the door. “Okay.”

Something landed in front of them.

MJ shrieked, Peter lurched forward, and Captain Rogers rose to his feet looking ready to commit murder. Then Black Widow came down beside him, and Scarlet Witch, and Black Panther, and Peter looked up to see the Quinjet hovering overhead, Thor and Falcon and Vision beside it. Someone else jumped out of the hatch, someone in red and gold, and Peter scrambled unsteadily to his feet just in time for Mister Stark to land and step out of his suit.

The man didn’t say a word - he just bolted forward, arms wrapping around Peter in the tightest hug he’d ever felt. Distantly, the kid heard Captain Rogers giving orders, heard MJ telling them about the sedative dart. He heard a small explosion, too, followed by shocked shouts and screams, presumably from the people who’d finally broken through the door expecting to find a couple of teenagers and instead coming face to face with a bunch of pissed off Avengers.

“We came as soon as we could,” Tony murmured in his ear. “You hear me, kid? We’re here. I’m here.”

Peter buried his head in the man’s shoulder and let himself relax for the first time that afternoon.

He must have still been a little out of whack, because next Peter knew, Mister Stark and Colonel Rhodes were carrying him and MJ up to the hovering Quinjet. Doctor Banner and Sergeant Barnes met them inside and took over while the armored Avengers went back down. The sergeant got MJ settled, wrapped up in an emergency blanket with her bag set to one side, while Banner checked Peter over, confirming that his healing factor was already getting the sedative out of his system.

Apparently, according to Barnes, they had Princess Shuri to thank for the fast rescue. She'd taken to monitoring the social media posts about Peter's rides in order to place her own bets, and had seen the most recent pictures of a woman decidedly not affiliated with the Avengers. She informed her brother, who told Tony, who started running for the Quinjet even as he called the traffic-trapped Happy. Word travelled fast, and in no time at all the entire team assembled, even before they got Ned’s phone call about the school being invaded.

By the time Peter was pronounced to be ninety percent back to his usual self, Hawkeye had parked the Quinjet on a nearby rooftop, the Avengers were done cleaning out the school of would-be kidnappers, and Wasp had even brought up Peter’s retrieved backpack, along with a bit of unwelcome news.

“Hydra?” MJ was the one to ask, Peter unable to say much of anything. “Do they know about his secret identity?”

“Stark thinks this was just their attempt to get some leverage over us, by taking a kid we’ve all been seen with,” Van Dyne explained. “Hence the regular soldiers and normal-dosage sedatives.”

“Yeah, if they’d known about your wall-crawling, they’d have brought something capable of knocking even Steve out,” Barnes joked. They all ignored the way his metal arm was clenched into a tight fist.

Peter let out a slow breath. “Okay, so, what now?”

“You’re both coming to the Compound tonight. Michelle, you mom’s been notified, and we’ve got a team of former, _trustworthy,_ Shield agents going to pick up May.”

“Ned?”

“Down below with Strange and Okoye, going over what happened. He’ll be coming too - we don’t want to take any chances with you guys.”

“Well, that’s gonna make his day,” Peter smiled weakly. MJ laced her fingers with his and squeezed. 

“...I realize this is way down on the list of priorities at the moment,” she said slowly, “But is there anyway we can still go to the school dance tomorrow night? This nerd promised me a good time and I intend to collect.”

As one, the gathered Avengers blinked at them. Then Hawkeye grinned.

“I think we can work something out.”


	12. Fall Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I was hoping that last chapter would get a lot of comments, and boy was I not disappointed! In light of all the requests for more, I've decided to dust off an old idea: five times Peter introduced himself to someone at Avengers Compound, and once that a visitor already new exactly who he was. I’m re-purposing it to fit this AU, as a prequel for Curbside - and this time, I hope to actually keep it in a proper 5+1 format, but as you all can probably tell I am a huge pushover when it comes to requests for more content. xD  
> First chapter for “I’m Peter By The Way” is already up! Hope to see you there!  
> -Tri

“You had to ask,” Peter groaned. “You _had_ to ask if we could still do this.” Despite his grumbling, though, the teen was grinning, and MJ wore her usual smirk. The two of them stood against the gymnasium bleachers, laughing as they observed heroes known the world over chaperone a high school dance.

Miss Potts, when made aware of the plan, quickly took charge in order to place people appropriately - not, for example, letting Sergeant Barnes or Falcon anywhere near the punch bowls. Instead, she put Colonel Rhodes and Doctor Banner on that particular guard duty, and sent the other two off on trash can detail.

Outside, Peter knew, was a surveillance team under the real Maria Hill (and boy hadn't _that_ been a fun introduction and explanation) along with some Asgardians brought along by Thor who'd be getting their own party later. Meeting Heimdal had been cool, Lady Sif was awesome, and the Valkyrie Brunhilde was ten kinds of epic. Supposedly, Loki was around too, wearing a magic disguise to blend into the crowd. Peter had seen Doctor Strange walking around earlier, eyes narrowed and fingers glowing, and suspected the two were doing some kind of hide and seek exercise.

Captain Rogers seemed to be having a great time circling the dance floor - not _actually_ yelling at teenagers who stood too close together, but inspiring propriety by his mere presence just the same. Hawkeye was watching things from somewhere in the rafters, Mister Stark and Shuri were battling for control of the music while T’Challa guarded their confiscated tech, and door-minding duty was rotated between Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Okoye.

Chuckling when he saw Scott dragging Van Dyne onto the dance floor, Peter glanced over at MJ. “Sooo...”

The girl arched an eyebrow at him. “If you’re gonna ask me something, Parker, then ask it.”

“Wanna dance?”

“Only if you don’t mind getting your toes stepped on.”

Peter beamed. “I think I can manage, m’lady.”

MJ rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Down, Tiger.”

They strolled over to the dance floor hand in hand, well aware that several Avengers were not so subtly grinning and taking pictures. As far as Peter was concerned, though, his weird arrangement of aunts and uncles could take the backseat for a night.


End file.
